


My Body's Made of Crushed Little Stars

by greeneyes_softsighs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeneyes_softsighs/pseuds/greeneyes_softsighs
Summary: Tadashi survives a moment of self-discovery, and Kei is there to support him.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Haikyuu Writer Jukebox Round One - Mitski





	My Body's Made of Crushed Little Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the HQ Writer's Jukebox, round 1. Inspiration pulled from the song My Body's Made of Crushed Little Stars by Mitksi.

Tadashi waits at the corner for Kei with his umbrella folded and tucked under his arm. The forecast supposed rain, there’d been none, and now he’s stuck dry and burdened with the unwieldy thing. Maybe he could enjoy the clear, cloudless skies if he didn’t have to lug it with him in addition to his work bag. Instead he keeps his head down and he waits, palming his phone in his pocket, and uncomfortably shifting the umbrella from arm to arm while people pass him on their way from work to blow off steam at karaoke or one of the izakayas downtown. He really needs this tonight. Really needs a moment with Kei to relax, unwind, and ignore the clusterfuck of his work-life balance.

“Thanks for waiting,” Kei greets, silently approaching from behind. He chuckles when Tadashi starts, and for what seems like the 1000th time Tadashi vows to keep a better eye out. Not that Kei is hard to spot in a crowd. They hug. The warmth of Kei’s lips leave an imprint on the crown of Tadashi’s head, and he slides the umbrella from under his arm surreptitiously. Tadashi frowns.

“You don’t have to carry that.” 

“I know I don’t,” Kei replies, raising a brow in practiced indignation. He keeps the umbrella tucked against his side as they start to walk toward the izakaya. Tadashi toys with the lanyard around his neck. “How was your day?”

“Same as usual. Nothing to write home about,” Tadashi mumbles. Talking about his work day has become a chore as the enjoyable moments, personal triumphs and landmark achievements dwindle following his hire out of college. His hiring supervisor quit six months into his first year at the company and they had yet to replace her, leaving a ghost-like hole in the wake of her capable presence. Since then Tadashi has been reporting to a higher-up who has no interest in him, or his work, or his well-being. It was like shouting at someone standing behind a curtain who may or may not have silently walked away. But why complain about that to Kei? It was boring, it changed nothing, and he didn’t want to burden his boyfriend and their new relationship with negative thoughts.

Kei looks at him askance and Tadashi avoids the gaze by pointing out the bar ahead. They both duck into the low doorway of the izakaya, hit immediately with the fragrant, warm air of bodies and beer and food. Tadashi gulps a lungful of it and attempts to shake off his mental baggage at the door.

“It’s just you look tired,” Kei says, carefully propping the umbrella near the doorway. “Are they keeping you too busy?”

The owner’s husband greets them from the bar and gestures politely to an open table. They sit. Tadashi broods, and Kei carefully observes from over the menu.

“I’m fine. It’s not that bad,” Tadashi explains. He worries at his fingers on top of the dark wood table, then picks at something crusted on the surface. There’s a sheen from the wet cloth that had been used to wipe it down. “My coworkers are dealing with much more than I am. I’m doing alright.”

“Okay....” Kei draws out skeptically. “I just worry sometimes that they’re taking advantage of you.” Kei says it with such nonchalance, maybe even a little ooze of his usual condescension, that it ruffles Tadashi’s feathers. He doesn’t want Kei to worry about him, and he is perfectly capable of sticking up for himself in most scenarios, but it just happened that this one was more complicated. Tadashi shakes his head. He’ll figure out a fix by himself.

“I’m fine,” he repeats with finality, then picks up the menu. Kei holds up his hands in lazy surrender. “How about you? Is the museum picking up now that school’s are back?”

“Unfortunately,” Kei says. He pulls off his glasses and gently wipes them clean with a cloth. The little red indents where the glasses sit on the bridge of Kei’s nose, the tiny scar on his eyebrow where he’d split the skin their third year after Hinata bowled into him head first during practice — Tadashi unabashedly stares at them, and gloriously he doesn’t have to look away when Kei finally pushes the glasses up his nose and meets his gaze. “It’s non-stop group tours for snot-nosed little brats from now until summer vacation.”

“You like it though,” Tadashi smiles. Kei looks taken aback by the suggestion. They pause to place orders with the owner when she comes to greet them, bustling and brief. She leaves a little dish of rice crackers in her wake. Without missing a beat, Kei continues the conversation while Tadashi picks out a few of the crackers to snack on.

“Oh yeah! I love my job! Yes, I _love_ when 400 children a day comment on how tall I am in the middle of an important lecture. I _love_ when their parents try to correct me on the latin names of dinosaurs,” Kei grumbles. Tadashi laughs and tension eases from his shoulders. “You should come by sometime and witness the mayhem yourself.”

“I think I’ve had enough of babysitting just from our co-captaining days.”

“Well, it was a lot easier when we worked together,” Kei says quietly, and Tadashi’s heart sings in his chest. He doesn’t even make an effort to wipe off the wide smile that little admission brings to his face. He thinks that it even makes Kei blush.

“We make a good team,” he says. Kei nods in agreement and they fall into silence, letting the noise of the bar cocoon them. 

The moments when they can be together, quietly, are some of Tadashi’s favorites. Someone might glance over and think, _Guess they have nothing to talk about._ But the silence itself is a conversation, wrapping them in their own thoughts, delivering them to another space where Tadashi recharges the dimming constellation of crushed little stars that make up his being in the muted light of Kei’s moonglow calm. He can feel far away from the rest of the world and, at the same time, swathed in it.

It’s always been that way between them. Walking home from practice, hanging out at the Tsukishima household, moments between Kei’s games for the Frogs. To Tadashi, they have always been a two-person unit working in tandem: Kei steadfastly plods ahead while Tadashi trails behind, protecting his back. 

Although recently, Tadashi relies more and more on that silence to cover up the swarm of his negative thoughts. He wants their new relationship to thrive, and dumping all the insignificant crap of his life onto Kei’s head right at the beginning doesn’t seem right. All of his ‘what ifs’ and worries end up paper thin and pathetic when he looks at Kei’s accomplishments: college, semi-pro athlete and museum educator. Shouldn’t he just be happy to have a place in orbit next to someone so cool? Kei doesn’t come off right away as a person with ambition, but simmering underneath the cool exterior is passion that runs ice cold and calm, a stream that trickles and drips, eroding obstacles methodically. Ruthless. He’s capable of things Tadashi isn’t.

Tadashi is happy to follow the current of the stream. Happy to be the support. Happy to just get his job done. He takes charge when needed, but in the grand scheme of his life Kei was always the main character. He’s the sidekick. Just looking up at his friend, his lover, is good enough for him. 

Right?

“So... three months, hm?”

Tadashi looks up suddenly from where he’s been gazing at their hands, loosely clasped at the center of the table. He pulls away while Kei adjusts his glasses again, impassive behind the glare of the lenses.

“Three months? Oh! Yeah... Since, uh, you know,” Tadashi laughs, barely able to say it out loud. “Um, you know...”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” Kei smirks, and Tadashi realizes belatedly that he’s being teased. He scratches his cheek and heat blooms against his fingertips. He isn’t sure why mentioning something silly like an anniversary has him so tongue-tied, but it might be the expression on Kei’s face — like the cat who’s caught the canary. Tadashi sputters something out just as the beers are set down onto the table between them, hydroplaning lazily across the dark lacquered surface on their own condensation. Kei picks his up and motions for Tadashi to do the same.

“Happy three month anniversary,” Kei says plainly.

“Happy three month anniversary,” Tadashi mimics, making it easier to spit out the words that jam up against his lips, cleaving his tongue to the roof of his mouth. They tip their glasses into each other with a dull clink and drink. 

It’s almost surreal to acknowledge after years of avoiding the way the scales had gradually tipped from friendship into the new and frightening territory of something more. While Hinata and the team deemed it ‘inevitable,’ the realization for Kei and Tadashi had been so foreign. So many things remained the same, but different. Tadashi has to acknowledge that Kei probably doesn’t feel exactly the same way. He has a practicality that precludes sentimentality and borders on robotic autonomy. Even in high school Kei’s decisions came from a place of exacting logic and empirical evidence, while Tadashi steered life based on feelings. They work well together because of those differences but it took years to recognize and accept them.

At least Tadashi knows that they’re both in love.

—

After settling the tab, Tadashi sprints for the umbrella at the entrance. He grabs it while Kei ambles up behind him with Tadashi’s work briefcase.

“Forget something?” He snarks, holding up the case with one finger hooked under the handle. “I’ll just hold this for you, then.” 

He sidles out of the bar with a smirk as Tadashi attempts to snatch it back, holding his umbrella against his chest while hopping around with mock indignation. Eventually he settles, allowing Kei to carry the case with a grumble. They’re both a little tipsy with rosy cheeks and relaxed shoulders, weaving gently on the sidewalk on the way to the train.

More thoughts bubble up to the surface of Tadashi’s mind. Once they get to the station, he and Kei will split ways and head home since they both have work tomorrow. But he wants to spend more time with him. The thought of returning to work is becoming more and more unbearable. It makes his body ache just thinking about the morning when he’ll have to drag himself out of bed. Should he tell Kei? Will it matter? Kei is so practical, almost predictable, that Tadashi can already hear the extremely sound, cautious and measured advice. Even that is too much to bear for now.

“Hey—” Kei speaks up. “I forgot something at work. Do you mind coming with me? To get it?”

“What’d you forget?”

“Just something. I need it for tonight.”

“Am I allowed? Like, after closing?” Tadashi asks.

“I work there, Tadashi. You’re allowed to go anywhere I go,” Kei says with his natural haughty condescension. He takes Kei’s hand and they about-face, heading toward the museum.

—

The Sendai City Museum sits resolutely under a blanket of blueish black sky. Tadashi follows Kei under street lamps to the employee side entrance where he buzzes in with his passcard. They walk through a series of sterile hallways lined with doors, hand in hand, and buzz through one more set of doors that open into a darkened, cavernous room. A few security lights maintain a dusky, murky light, throwing the main hall exhibits into heavy shadow. Tadashi squints into the darkness until his eyes start to adjust and he’s almost tripped by a red velvet rope that cordons off the employee doors. The rope unhooks and falls, while the polite little sign asking for ‘No General Admittance Please’ clatters to the ground with it. Tadashi pitches forward and catches himself at the last second, skipping with arms pinwheeling through air.

“Careful,” Kei says. His voice and the terrible ruckus Tadashi created echoes off the walls, drawing a pair of unhurried footsteps that approach at the opposite end of the hallway. A lamp is raised in their direction. Tadashi can’t make out the person holding it in the gloom.

“Is that you, Mr. Tsukishima?” The person asks.

“Yes, it’s me. Sorry for the bother, Sato. We have it under control.”

“Alright! I’ll be patrolling the east wing exhibits if you need anything. Enjoy yourself!” The lamp returns to his side, and a walkie crackles as the guard walks out of the hall. His footsteps fade out pleasantly and Tadashi glances over at Kei.

“Enjoy yourself?”

“Eh,” Kei shrugs. “Who knows what that guy’s thinking half the time.”

“Is he here to protect the exhibits from the public... or the public from the exhibits?” Tadashi’s tone cascades from horror movie presenter to giggles, gleeful as Kei rolls his eyes with a put-upon sigh to hide his smile. They continue across the main hall, through an archway into another high-ceilinged room. Kei reaches out an exaggerated hand and nearly clotheslines Tadashi, holding him back just before they reach another red rope closing off the area ahead. The sign hanging from it is engraved with the hours for the exhibit.

“Please,” he says, pushing up his glasses. “Allow me. Don’t want another catastrophe on our hands.” Kei unhooks the rope and bows, ushering Tadashi through. It’s slightly insulting with a hint of gallantry that puts a wry smile on Tadashi’s face.

“Totally unnecessary, but appreciated,” he says, and enters the hall. 

Skeletal, towering, the tyrannosaurus rex greets them at the entrance to her somber abode. Tadashi’s gaze first finds the rows of her vicious, pointed teeth, then slips between the dark lines of her ribs into the rest of the exhibit. It's humbling, almost relaxing, to be dwarfed by something so ancient. Like entering a shrine, and in the darkness and silence there is a similar air of reverence and respect. He bows slightly to the creature’s remains. Maybe the spirit of this ancestral beast can give him the strength to figure out what he should be doing with his life.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Kei asks with his usual quiet, even intonation as he clips the velvet rope back onto the brass stanchion.

“Just thinking about how cool it is that this is basically your office,” Tadashi says, spreading his arms to indicate the museum. He looks back over his shoulder at his boyfriend with a smile. Kei’s sidelong glance says he’s not buying it, but Tadashi is stubborn enough to ignore the tell and Kei is too cautious to press him for more. They’ve been dancing around like this for a little while now. Tadashi is always just a few steps ahead of Kei, deflecting his carefully chosen questions and finding relief when they have no follow up. Hiding in the pocket of familiar quiet that comes after.

“My real office is downstairs,” Kei says, dress shoes clicking on the marble tiles as they make their way through the empty exhibit hall. Tadashi’s sneakers scuff along beside them. “But since I spend most of my time giving tours to snot-nosed little brats, yeah, I guess you could say this is my real office.”

“Not bad. Your co-workers seem a little on the quiet side, though,” Tadashi smiles, stopping under the arc of a stegosaurus tail. Kei snorts and rolls his eyes. 

“Terrible,” he sighs, pushing his glasses up his nose with a finger. “Have you been working on that material for long? Don’t quit your day job.” 

Tadashi’s smile falters and he flushes.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be trying stand-up anytime soon,” he says, glancing at the shiny blue-black shoes Kei wore for work. The moment drags on uncomfortably until Kei breaks it with another one of his sighs. The shoes approach.

“Tadashi—” Kei sucks his teeth, breaking off and regrouping for a moment. For once he was trying not to sound like an asshole. “I can tell something’s off. What’s on your mind?”

“It’s nothing,” Tadashi says, swallowing around the words that clog his throat and threaten to spill out. Worries. Insecurities. They were small things, stuff he just needed to get over, weaknesses he could fix by himself. The nagging of doubts for his future, for his happiness in accepting things as they always have been while Kei keeps growing. Eventually moving on without him or worse — dragging him behind like a ball and chain.

“Bullshit,” Kei replies, eyes narrow. Tadashi’s head whips up. “Your face says it all.”

“My face?” Tadashi asks as Kei lifts a finger and pokes the tense, wrinkled crease that had started to appear more often between Tadashi’s brows. Kei wiggles his finger gently until the muscles relax and smooth over once more.

“Right here,” Kei says. “I’ve been noticing it more and more. This little frown.”

An instant, unbidden shame washes over Tadashi. He’s been found out. Of course Kei can see straight through him. He bites his cheek as a swell of emotion clogs his throat and dries his mouth. 

“Tadashi, say something,” Kei urges him. “Literally anything. Please.” Tadashi can feel Kei’s mounting frustration, but he shakes his head and shrugs weakly. Opening his mouth now would probably result in a very ugly, public cry. He wasn’t prepared for that to happen, so instead he just indulges in a drawn out inhale and a soft, wobbly, “Um...”

Kei lets out a frustrated grunt. His jaw muscles tense and relax. He crosses his arms, and his fingers flex into the fabric of his work shirt, but he takes a step back to give Tadashi some space. A couple moments pass, a few more, and Tadashi feels his throat begin to relax and the heat in his face recedes. He can breathe deeply now, but unease remains. They’ve unlocked a ‘no going back’ scenario, and Tadashi can tell that their conversation is far from over.

“Can I show you something?” Kei asks. Tadashi nods, allowing Kei to take his hand again and lead him through the hall. They pass everything wordlessly and exit through another archway into a narrow, darkened passage lined with LEDs at the baseboard. The floor slopes upward gently, ending at a doorway marked Planetarium Entrance. Kei unclips a small flashlight from his keyring and pushes into the pitch black room. 

Cool air from the theater washes over them. Tadashi breathes in a cold mouthful, eyes drawn to the place where empty darkness opens up around the small oval of light bouncing across the floor. It lands like a spotlight on a couple of plush seats.

“You can sit here,” Kei says. Tadashi immediately flops into the seat. They leave the briefcase and umbrella on the floor. “I’m going to go turn on the projector and the speakers. These buttons control the incline.” The chair emits a soft electric hum and leans backward slowly when Kei presses a button on the inside of the armrest. Tadashi’s body relaxes into the seat as it rocks him back, focusing his gaze upward into darkness.

“Okay,” he says. Kei turns and walks across the room, then jogs up the stairs flanking the rows of seats. Tadashi follows his dimly lit form until it disappears into a door at the top of the stairs, leaving him alone in absolute black.

Tadashi waits. He closes his eyes and thinks about what he can tell Kei. What he can’t. Or should he just let it all come out? Is it fair for Kei if Tadashi stacks all of his baggage on his shoulders, is it fair to withhold it? The tinkle of music starts to fade in over the theater’s speakers. Tadashi opens his eyes just when the ceiling comes to life with thousands of twinkling stars. A pleasant voice speaks over the music and begins to explain the mysteries of the universe.

_“Billions of years ago, it all started with a bang... a super conducted explosion of gas and dust and debris...”_

“What’d I miss?” Kei asks, sending Tadashi about a foot in the air.

“I swear, next time...” Tadashi sighs, settling back into his chair while Kei reclines in his. The mechanical whirr stops abruptly and Kei’s dimly lit profile enters his periphery, glasses reflecting the images playing across the ceiling. Tension bunches the muscles in Tadashi’s neck. Their conversation — or rather their lack of one — in the exhibit hall continues its rounds in his mind. Buzzing, along with every other thought and doubt and justification, like a fly around his head.

“Kei...” He says, staring at the ceiling. The stars begin to blur and drip down his temples into his hair. He takes a shuddering breath and his palm is covered by cool rough skin and squeezed gently. Tadashi breathes again, trying to recover, but his lips bow. He exhales an ugly, wet sob, forcing out his words thickly. “I’m unhappy.”

“Tadashi—” Kei sounds tired, cautious, worried?

“The only time I can relax is when I’m with you, but I can’t live my life just for the moments we spend together. I want to love everything I do the same amount, more or less, and be happy and proud of myself the same way I’m proud of everything you’ve accomplished. I don’t want to live in a shadow. I don’t want to be a sidekick. I know I’m strong enough to do great things, but I just don’t know how!” Tadashi gasps at the end of his confession and sniffles. He squeezes his eyes shut, afraid to see the look on Kei’s face, only aware of the connection where their hands clasp tightly on the arm rest.

“Is there something I can do?” Kei speaks up after a beat of stunned silence. Under the music and the narrator his voice is strangely pitchy and lacking its usual cool undertone.

“No. I don’t know,” Tadashi replies, wiping snot away with the back of his free hand. He looks over at Kei finally meeting worried, searching eyes. “I don’t know. This feels like something I have to do for myself. For my own sake.”

“But not alone,” Kei says, looking for clarity. Tadashi shakes his head and blots the tear tracts on his face. It’s futile since every new sentence dredges up a strange twisting, aching relief in his chest. Painful, but at the same time freeing as the splinter of anxiety becomes unwedged bit by bit.

“Not alone,” he agrees, stubbornly acknowledging the weight lifted by that admission. Another bit of his self-inflicted obligation breaks free.

“Because earlier tonight you _did_ say we make a good team, didn’t you?”

“I guess I did say that,” Tadashi laughs weakly. He sucks in a deep breath. “Sorry. I should have said something before. I don’t know why I was so worried in the first place.”

“I don’t need an apology,” Kei says, turning in his seat to add his other hand to Tadashi’s on the arm rest. He shimmies their fingers together, interlocking them, and cups Tadashi’s knuckles. “Just don’t forget you’re a part of the team, too. We can’t play if you’re not in the game.”

“Yeah,” Tadashi says, shoulders relaxing. “I want to keep playing with you, Kei. I want to do my best.”

“I want the same thing, and I think that seems entirely doable,” Kei assess, glasses glinting from the light of the projection.

“It does!” Tadashi shouts with surprise. His tears, which have been steadily falling this whole time, seem a little silly now. He wipes at them again with his soaked sleeve. The relief is almost giddying. 

“Do you want to watch the rest of the show?” Kei asks, and they both glance upward as if to apologize to the narrator they’ve been ignoring this whole time.

“No, not really...” Tadashi admits. “I’m exhausted, actually. Sorry.”

“That’s fine. I’ll go turn it off and we can walk to the train.”

Tadashi lays back as their hands untangle and Kei unfolds himself from his recliner. He manages a few steps toward the projection room before Tadashi stops him with a shout, sitting bolt upright in his chair.

“Kei, we’re not here to pick up something you left behind,” he says.

“No, we’re not here to pick up something I left behind,” Kei repeats. “This was supposed to be a romantic surprise and, well, you ruined it. No hard feelings though.”

“Oh no,” Tadashi laughs and clears his throat around a bubble of cry-snot as Kei leans over the chairs to give him a kiss on the forehead, and the cheek. He pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and drops it onto Tadashi’s chest.

“Don’t worry about it. Just clean up a bit,” Kei says, then jogs up the stairs. Overhead the announcer leads Tadashi through the known universe, gently, politely guiding him from one galaxy to another. The music swells and the narrator’s voice crescendos in wonder and awe. Tadashi blows his nose and cleans up his face with the handkerchief.

_“Out of the dust and pressure came billions of stars, nestled at the heart of their own galaxies, spinning and churning and expanding with the fabric of space. Earth is just one little speck orbiting around one star in a vast cosmos—“_ the voice and music end abruptly, plunging Tadashi back into darkness. The door for the projector room clicks and shuts from above, and Kei’s footsteps thud down the stairs preceded by the bouncing circle of the flashlight.

“Ready?”

“Mhm... I feel bad for not realizing this was a date,” Tadashi says while the seats slowly folds itself back upright. Kei holds out a hand for him to take.

“I don’t think anything can get more romantic than what just happened,” Kei helps him to his feet with a tug. 

“Ugh!” Tadashi barrels forward and wraps Kei in a tight hug. Delicate, rough-skinned hands with knobbly knuckles smooth down his hair and neck, coming to rest on his back. “Why don’t you turn off that flashlight? I can make it up to you a little before we leave...”

Kei’s response is a solid _click_ as the flashlight dies, leaving them wreathed in darkness.

—

“I guess I don’t have to figure everything out right away, but it feels like there’s just... A lot,” Tadashi says as they approach the platform. Kei hands him his work bag, and he leaves the umbrella tucked up under his armpit just as the train speeds into the station, kicking up a gentle wind on its arrival. Tadashi tames his flyaway hairs with a sigh. Although it’s not as strong and foreboding as before, the sucking feeling of tomorrow’s workday anticipation remains.

“Let me know when you want to talk out your game plan,” Kei says.

“Okay, yeah.” Tadashi sneaks a final one-armed hug for the evening and melts into Kei’s side. He sticks there as the doors close again and the train leaves the station with another whoosh of air. Kei sighs noisily, but his arm firmly wraps around Tadashi’s shoulders.

“It doesn’t have to be tonight,” he offers quietly.

“I know it doesn’t. And… maybe it won’t,” Tadashi says. “I mean. It probably won’t, because I have other things in mind.”

“Like practicing our teamwork?”

“Something like that...”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank yous to the other amazing writers for the HQWJ, round 1! You were all so welcoming, kind and driven to make awesome stuff. It was a big inspiration to me!
> 
> BIG thank you and kisses to my patient and talented friends [Cairda](https://twitter.com/cairdaswailes) and [Baga](https://twitter.com/Bagarella25) for betaing in the final hour. Your thoughtful feedback was extremely helpful and motivating. I appreciate the time you spent on my lil' fic!! They're amazing authors in their own right so check them out on twitter!!
> 
> You can also find me on twitter [@hornyowlboi](https://twitter.com/hornyowlboi), where I post 18+ artwork for Haikyuu! and some other fandoms.
> 
> Make sure to kudos and comment if you enjoyed the read!


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